The Drug
by BabyDoll916
Summary: She was his drug. He needed and hated her all at the same time; she was the affliction he couldn't escape and the cure he so desperately craved. He was her Adam, and she his Eden. 'Eden' in the eyes of Sesshoumaru. S/K. Not a one-shot
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is the piece I have told a few of you about. It is Sesshoumaru's account of Eden, somewhat. I hope it answers most of your questions. This is not a one-shot; as 'Eden' progresses, so will this. I have already have a lot written out, but it is not the appropriate time to post it now. It skips around a bit, so feel free to send me a message if you're confused in any way.

I look forward to your feedback!

* * *

You were always the annoying one. Always the one that Father hated the most. You were always the one that got Inuyasha into trouble. Smoking cigarettes, ditching school, you were always the one blamed.

And why shouldn't you be? Because most often than not, it _was_ you that was at fault. You were so small, you should have been so insignificant, but you always strived to be different, to be _significant_, even though you had no right.

Because next to Kikyou, _everyone_ was insignificant. Next to Kikyou, even the most beautiful model looked like a dirty, age-old rock. Next to Kikyou, the kindest woman on the face of the planet looked like a shrew. Next to Kikyou, you were nothing.

Kikyou was the sun in the galaxy of our lives. No matter which way we turned, no matter how many times we looked away, everything always ended up revolving around Kikyou. And I don't think anyone could really help it. We all did it subconsciously, even Father to a certain extent.

Everyone did…except _you_.

_You_ were always the odd one out, the one late for dinner, the one people dumped on our doorstep at an ungodly hour, passed out drunk.

_You_ were the one who cared shit-all about what people around you were saying, you were the one who could express your opinion that shocked others into silence.

But I don't think you believed half of what you said. Probably because you were either drunk or getting drunk whenever you spoke.

I can remember the first time you infuriated me. Kikyou had to hold me for about an hour to calm me down.

But you know? It wasn't even what you did that made me so mad. It was the look on your face. It was what your eyes were telling me.

Throwing brown paint mixed with canine feces on my walls was annoying, at the least, because these things can be fixed. They were fixed. Father made you do it. And really, it was _you_ and Inuyasha who got most of it on yourselves, anyway. Inuyasha probably convinced you to leave my belongings alone. Good thing, because I would have locked you in the outhouse until I thought it fit for you to come out. Which would probably be a long, long time.

But that was almost irrelevant. It was when I confronted you about it that made rage course through my veins.

You kept your head down, which fit you perfectly. But it was your eyes…your eyes that kept darting up to me, stealing glances, like you knew something that I didn't. Even when I grabbed your chin and made you look at me – you didn't. Your stare was _just_ off the corner of my face, but the look on your face said it all.

You didn't care.

You thought it was funny.

I wanted to smack you so hard that you spun in circles and fainted of dizziness. I wanted to punch your eye, so that it would swell shut and turn purple.

But I didn't.

I said something to you, something that made you narrow your eyes at me, and I left. To Kikyou.

And she made it better.

Kikyou. Kikyou was the one that convinced me to convince Father to send you to AA meetings.

But you knew, and I did too, that she didn't have to do that. She could have gone to Father herself. He would have given his consent to her in a heartbeat. Or two.

Or maybe he wouldn't have.

Because we all knew he didn't give a shit about you. Do you remember how he would tut and turn his head whenever you were around? Do you remember that time he told me to sell you to a brothel when you were playing cards with Inuyasha?

I still ask myself, to this day, why he said yes. I didn't know why, so when I married you, I stopped the meetings.

Yes, maybe I did start to care for you as you grew; maybe I did start to see things from your point of view.

When Kikyou asked me to, I _did_ take a look into your world.

And the worst part?

I wanted to _stay_ in your world. Not with you, of course, but…I liked it. When I saw what you saw, I saw a lot of things. I saw colors in black and white pictures. I saw Kikyou crying when I stared at the ceiling. I saw the story of the two greatest lovers of all time in the falling of tears. Of your tears, of Inuyasha's tears, and of Kikyou's tears.

I heard the song of birds telling a story, I saw what the hawk dancing in the sky, his immeasurable domain.

And it changed me.

Suddenly, being on time didn't matter all that much. Yes, it was important, but there was always a few seconds to be with Kikyou.

Suddenly, perfection didn't have to be…perfect. The wrinkle in my shirt told the story of Kikyou and I in my room, after dinner.

But when she died, nothing mattered. It was as if our sun had gone out. We were all satellites, floating around with no purpose. Where to turn, who to speak to?

When Father sent Inuyasha away, and then died, there was no one.

Except for Kikyou, and you.

But then Kikyou died, by your hands.

And then there was just me and you.

Alone, avoiding each other.

You didn't speak. You didn't need to. Or maybe you did, and I should have asked you to.

But I didn't, and I don't regret it.

And then there was that day.

The day that everything changed.

The day that you punched me so hard that it was _my_ eye that was swollen shut and purple the next day.

And it was only because I almost accidentally called you Kikyou. Really, I only got out the first syllable, but you snapped. I remember you tried to punch me again, one quick smack to the same side. But I was ready this time. You struggled, remember? You reminded me of a lioness. Did you have your teeth bared too? I don't remember. But I stopped you, stopped your struggles.

Up against the wall. Your wrists lost in my hands, up against the wall by your head. My knee between your legs. Both of us breathing hard, my eyes closed. Your eyes were probably open, glaring at my cheekbone or something. Or maybe not. Because I can still remember the shock of feeling your wet lips against my neck. I pulled away quick, because I didn't know what the fuck was going on.

_Please_, you said. Please what, I wondered in my head. I stared at you, and you stared right back at me. I still wonder how long we stood there like that, not knowing what to say, how to feel. Because we hadn't in a long, long, time. Felt, that is.

And you sighed, I remember. Exhaled softly into my face. And you tried to pull your wrists away. But I didn't let you go, because I wanted to know, please what?

You closed your eyes. I saw you swallow. And then tears fell out of your closed eyes.

_Please what_, I asked you.

_Nothing._

Nothing. Of course it was nothing, because it was Kikyou, which was everything. I should have dropped it right there. I should have stepped up and backed away.

But back then, when you said _nothing_, it meant that it didn't matter. It meant that Kikyou didn't matter. To me, that is. But to me, it mattered the world.

So I let the rage consume me. _Nothing what?!_ I shouted in your face. I let go of your wrists so I could raise my hand to slap you. But you flinched, and I liked that. So I did it again, and you flinched again.

_I'm sorry_, you mumbled, and that was it. The absolute turning point. _I'm sorry she died. I'm sorry I killed her!_

And then red filled my vision and my hand came down again and again, grabbed your hair and pulled you up when you fell down and tried to curl up to protect yourself.

Protect yourself against me.

Did I feel bad when I realized _why_ you had curled up? No. No way.

You started to fight back when I twisted the front of your shirt in my fist, and couple buttons popped off. Landed another one right in the middle of my throat. It made me choke and gag. But I caught your foot before you could kick my head. And twisted.

The truth is, I wanted to break your foot. I wanted to twist your foot right off your leg. But you're not stupid. So you spun around with your ankle, your body hit the corner of my desk and crumpled to the floor. And your hair was tussled and your shirt was practically open.

And suddenly, I knew the perfect way. The perfect way to what, I didn't know, I still don't know. To punish you, maybe? To punish myself? God, I don't know. I just. I knew what I had to do. I picked you up quite bodily from the ground, dropped you on the desk you had just hit yourself on. I leaned over you, pressed my hand down on your hips so you couldn't go anywhere. Cupped your faced, touched your collarbone. You tried to sit up, fast, so fast, but I've always been faster than you. My hand on the junction of your shoulder and your neck, pushing you back down.

And your wild brown eyes finally settled on mine.

But it was just for a second, maybe less than that, before your eyes flickered away to the left or right.

It was in that moment that I realized that you can make me hard. And I wanted to tell you that, because I knew it would scare you. So I moved my body and positioned my mouth behind your ear, and rocked my hips once against yours. And I know you felt it, because I heard you gasp. I liked it. The sound of your fear. So I did it again. And you gasped again.

I pushed your shorts off with one hand. The beauty of elastic bands. You didn't wear bras then, I don't think. Or you did, and I don't remember taking it off.

You whispered my name, and my resolve was almost gone, because I didn't even know why I was doing this.

But then your hands touched my shoulders and stroked my hair and I knew that you needed this as much as I did.

You needed this feeling, this wild gasping of breath, hands everywhere.

You needed this punishment just as much as I did.

I fell to my knees, I remember, the _only_ time I have done that in your presence. I moved down your body, threw your leg over my shoulder. Smirked when you choked out a scream of surprise and pleasure when my lips attached to your clit. Clenched your thighs against my head, lifted your hips up into my face. I slid a finger into your tight, tight hole, moved it around a little, and you groaned. You loved it, and you hated it, as you loved and you hated your life.

And we continued this dance, emotions blasting from our selves, bouncing on the walls, absorbing through our skin, my tongue in your pussy, small bites that made you tug on my hair, choke out groans and sobs alike, my finger pumping in and out, adding another as we went. But I stayed at two fingers, because you whimpered at three.

I remember the feel of you as you clenched around my fingers, arched your back, and looked up for a second to see you toss your head to the side and then brought my head back down and finished what I started and when you came, you screamed, your toes were probably curled, fingers clutching uselessly at themselves, clenching and unclenching as the aftershocks of the orgasm swept over you.

I was already on my knees, and it didn't seem fair that I should be on my knees and you shouldn't. I grabbed your ankle and pulled you quite unceremoniously from my desk, and you landed in a tumble of arms and I know you tried to crawl away then, too, but I didn't want that. I was on my knees, and you should be too. But you couldn't hold up your body for long; I could imagine shocks of exhaustion coursing through your body. And thinking about it made me tired, too, so I collapsed on my side just as you did.

It was amusing to me how you curled your naked body away from me, drew your knees to your chin, wrapped your arms around you legs.

But I didn't want you to protect yourself, because your punishment was far from over. So I pulled you apart, spooned you, I think.

And the look on your face.

The _hurt_ in your face.

And your hurt fueled my hurt, gave me strength to whisper things in your ear, gave me the strength of make you cry, again.

Tears coming out in a steady stream out of your closed eyes.

_Look at me!_ And you did, surprisingly, shockingly.

And so I stared down, looked into the depths, and I knew that things will never be the same.

I looked into them, and for once in my life, I saw emptiness.

Your eyes, Kagome.

-

After that night, I tried to forget about you. Yes, we lived in the same house, but it was big, and we didn't have to see each other so often. But then, it seemed like you were _everywhere_, every corner I turned, you were there too, doing god knows what. We'd always cross each other on the stairs, and it was so awkward.

So to keep our distance, I locked myself in my study, my only sanctuary. I didn't even come out into the hall to go to my bedroom. Instead, I used the hidden panel to cross the tunnel to go into my room.

But our hiding from each other couldn't hide the truth, no matter how hard we tried. Perhaps I should have tried harder, I recognize that now. Perhaps I should have acted accordingly. But I didn't, and it was our ruination.

Jaken was so scared that day, jumpy and sweaty. And he should have been, too, because I was ready to beat him to a pulp and throw him out of my company when his shaking hands laid down the newspaper in front of me.

My eyes flickered down, and the headline screamed at my face, hurting my eyes.

_KAGOME HIGURASHI CAUGHT IN BED, SOURCES SAY!_

What? Just-_what_??

And I scanned over the article-how did this get out?!

_Kagome Higurashi, longtime resident of the prestigious Taisho family, was photographed engaging in sexual activity with the only other resident of the mansion, Mr. Sesshoumaru Taisho, heir and owner of Taisho, Inc.! Sources say…_

'_It's wrong!' says Mrs. Shigamoto, spouse of Mr. Shigamoto, owner of Shinwa, Lt., 'they're not even married! And rumor goes that Kikyou Higurashi, Kagome's sister and recently deceased, was a longtime love interest of Mr. Sesshoumaru!' Her face, as she speaks, is scandalized…_

_Another very reliable source insists that Kagome Higurashi is pregnant by Mr. Sesshoumaru Taisho, owner of Taisho, Inc…_

Oh, god.

I called Jaken to me at once, demanded an explanation. It was good (for his sake) that he already had an answer waiting for me.

_It was the gardener, Sir._

My eyes clouded over at the mention of it. How _dare_ he. _Deal with it, Jaken._

And he did, the pathetic creature. A week after I fired him, he was found dead in his measly little home. To other people, it looked as if he had hung himself.

But it was my doing, just like everything is my doing.

You knew that, however much you tried to ignore it. I knew you'd come to me, demanding an explanation. I was a little shocked; it took you three weeks to approach me about it.

_You didn't have to kill him. You'd already fired him, why cause more damage?_

I stared at you, and you stared at the quill and ink on my desk.

_Did you even _see_ what he leaked, Kagome? _

Your cheeks turned pink, didn't they? Of course you saw what he leaked. You didn't have to say a word. _What are you going to do about what everyone already knows?_

You asked me that, but now that I think about it, I think you already knew what we had to do. I could hardly get rid of our society.

We_ are going to prove them right. We're getting married, Kagome. Congratulations._

_Fuck you,_ and you left.

I think that was the first time the feeling of defeat began to surface, but I squashed it down. Failure was something I could not afford.

We needed to cover this up, and you were going to help me, whether you wanted to or not.

I think, in the depths of your sould, you knew this. You knew that it was the only way out. You must have thought of all the alternatives I thought of, for I deducted quickly that you and I were not so different. I'd have to point that out to you some day, I mused.

I called Jaken and told him to begin the preparations for a quick, shotgun wedding. This could not wait.

* * *

Tell me what you think! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! I know, I haven't updated this in a while...I was really wrapped up around 'Eden!' This chapter goes through a lot of tangents...it's very unorganized, I know. If you have any questions, you know you can always ask in a review or you can send me a PM. I suppose this chapter is sort of a spoiler for 'Eden,' but bear with me. :)

Please excuse any errors you might find...I've been quite busy cursing and damning my fate and insomnia, respectively, and so I might have missed some things. Also, I don't have a beta. Sad Face. Well, hit me up if you're interested, I suppose.

Thank you to all my annonymous reviewers. They really do mean a lot of me.

So, Thank You to:p

violet, xxxVanstarxxx (sorry, I know you're not annon, but I literally just realized that. here's your update!), Kimi-chan, and kido.

I do hope it lives up to all of your expectations.

* * *

It was possibly the worst day of my life, and I do not state this lightly.

Things had changed. I almost don't like to admit it, because you were everything I was taught to hate, but it doesn't change the fact. You were no longer the same person you used to be, and honestly, I could hardly recognize myself in the mirror.

You used to be an outlet for me, just something for me to take out my anger and frustration and…carnal _hunger_ on. It's not something that I intended, not really. It's just that you were always…_there_, around the corner, in the library, chatting with the cook. You were so available all the time, and whenever I looked into your eyes and saw the hurt and the anger and the fear, it set me off. By looking into your eyes, I could see the _why_s and it got me thinking and it always, _always _reminded me that it was your fault that she was dead. That Kikyou, a daughter, a lover and a sister, had lived and died. And no, it didn't really help that you looked almost exactly like her.

Maybe that was a deciding factor, that you looked like her. Maybe…no, it _did_ make me think twice sometimes. It made me think that you were something…some_one_ that maybe mattered to me.

When Kasu, or Kosu, whatever her name was, thrashed the shit out of you, I experienced panic, which was panicking in itself. It was more annoyance when I couldn't find you at Onigomu's….and when you weren't on the ground floor or the second floor, the emotion of confusion and worry first made its way into my heart. It confused me, because I was confused and worried for _you_, and this was perhaps the most foreign thing I had ever experienced in my life.

By the time I had raced to the third floor, my palms were sweaty and my tie askew and my heart was racing like mad, because _where the fuck did she go?!_

And then your voice. Strained and hurt and scared…and so strangely sweet to my ears. _Help me, please!_ But you sounded so broken and I followed it, followed your voice and called out your name, hoping, and, indeed, praying that you would answer, and answer you did. The one word that scared you…the one word that stripped you of everything…and the one word you hated, and the one word that you needed.

_Sesshoumaru!_

And it was coming from the door and I chanted your name because I didn't know what was going on because something was very obviously _wrong_ and I ran inside and found you like this.

Clothes ripped, skin open on your face, finger shaped bruises on your neck, one eye getting ready to swell shut, feet bare and your ankle….oh god, the sight of your ankle made my stomach turn. It was turned in the complete wrong direction. A lot things went through my mind at that moment…rage was definitely at the top of the list because someone…someone had dared to touch you, to hurt you…you, who belong to _me_. Pity was second, horror and sadness, but something else also pulled at my consciousness, something I was very much ashamed to admit at the time.

It was your name. It was everything that your name represented. It was love, hate, need, life and death, it was…my life.

And words tumbled out of my mouth, words that were meant only for my head…words that the likes of Hikari didn't deserve to hear. They were words of pity and worry. _Oh my god, what the fuck, what happened_, all words of pity. And I was shocked at the entire situation. I picked you up, and you screamed some nonsense about your ankle missing and that was when it hit me.

I was carrying you because someone hurt you and you called _my_ name and I came, no, I _ran_ like the devil was on my heels because I was worried because it was _you_…

And I experienced an unexpected, though not unfamiliar, prickling in my eyes. When I realized that it was the sight of you that was making tears form, the first one fell. Onto you, I think, and it made me cry even more that you tried to wipe them from me, your tormentor, and your hater.

And in that moment, the moment you tried to soothe _me_, I realized that you were my life.

My one, and my only.

But that didn't mean I had to accept it that easily. And I didn't. Kikyou was still there like a barrier between us. Every time I touched you, I thought of Kikyou…and the guilt fueled my hate and violence, as I'm sure it did to you. As I _know_ it did to you as well.

* * *

My father, when he lived, was a brilliant bastard.

He was such a successful business tycoon; it runs in our family. However, in our family history, he was perhaps the most successful. It was hard to live up to him, and he knew, and used it to taunt me every chance he got.

He was a strict father, but whatever he did for Inuyasha and me, it was always for our good. Or so he told us.

My father's standards and values were puzzling to us as children, and because we could recognize them for what they were then, we thought it completely normal as we grew older.

I suppose I shouldn't include Inuyasha in this, because he was much younger than I, and was therefore much more easily influenced by your presence. Yes, I had Kikyou, but her ways were much more subtle than your outright brazen way of telling Inuyasha that he was a pompous prick. Honestly, at this point in our life, I think I can say that, despite everything, I am a little proud to call Inuyasha my little brother. Well, half-brother, really. He saw past the extraordinary picture our father painted for us; a portrait of supremacy, power, ego and success. Actually, now that I think about it, I do believe that Inuyasha was only able to see past this picture because you were there to pick out the shades of gray and show them to him.

I suppose it was the absence of Inuyasha's mother, along with your presence, that made him more rebellious and less likely to crave our father's attention. I suppose his degree in law proves that. He was just as interested in business as a toddler is to the vowels in the alphabet.

No…it was always _I_ that was striving to Father that I was worth a second glance. You were right, when you shouted at me that I was just like Father. Father had such influence on my psyche that he actually convinced me that I hated my mother, that I was glad she was gone from our lives. He convinced me that it was her fault that our family was put to such a shame…that she _wanted_ to leave Father and I.

And indeed, it was Father's hatred of you that led to my own hatred and disgust of you. _That girl_, he called you, with such a sneer on his face. Eventually, it came to the point that when Father looked disgusted, he was had either seen you, snapped at you, or was thinking of you. I do believe I adopted that look.

The Look was supposed to instill fear within you, and it did. It made both Father and I pleased, to a certain extent.

But I digress.

No matter how much I tried to be like him, Father would always be better than me. Mother once told me, when I was very young, that what parents want the most if for their children to surpass them in success.

I was not able to do so.

And because of this, I was forced to marry again. Hikari Onigomu, the niece and only heir to the Onigomu fortune, had a strange obsession with our entire family long before she ever stepped into this house as a bride. When my informants reported back to me, I was told that our family name is mentioned throughout her diary, and she also has her own copy of our family history, along with the myths that we descend from a clan of demon-lords. Her walls are white, our family color, and are adorned with portraits of myself, Father, and Grandfather.

To use your words, it was fucking creepy.

I suppose she convinced her uncle that I was the one for her. And her uncle gave me to her. I suppose I should have seen it coming when he approached me with the proposal for my hand, but, as people say, hindsight is twenty/twenty. My informants reported that she flew into a rage at my rejection.

Honestly, I made absolutely no connection to my multi-million dollar deal being broken to the rejection of Hikari Onigomu. She did not even exist in my mind anymore at that point.

To my own shame, I did not make the connection even when Onigomu offered his niece to me in exchange for him buying the deal. I was stresses and panicked, because if this didn't go through, then our everything, the Taisho family _fortune_ would be lost forever. Generation of hard work would be gone in one signature.

In the end, I had no choice. It was either lose everything, or marry a pretty girl. I didn't think of the effect it would have on you. I didn't think about anything but millions, _millions_ gone in the time it took to sign on the dotted line. I didn't actually think you'd care that much. It's not as if we married for love or anything. I knew you'd feel something….because things were beginning to change. Slowly. So slowly.

It was one week, maybe two, that Hikari began showing her true colors. _Fuck me or I'll divorce you_. And once again, the choice was between losing millions and fucking a pretty girl. So I fucked her, right there in my study. Yes, I did have to stroke myself into readiness…and pretend it was your eyes I was looking into, not the light blue that was Hikari's.

And it went on like that. Her threats against me always worked, because I had everything to lose and she had everything to gain. To make myself feel better, I told her little white lies. In addition to my own entertainment, I knew it pissed you off. I know you looked at her like a little sister. I know you thought you needed to protect you, and it made me so mad at myself that you did not realize that it was _you_ who was in danger, that it was _you_ who needed protecting.

And the worst part was that I couldn't even tell you so. It hurt my ego that Hikari had such a hold over me, and the only person I could take my frustration out on was you. So yes, I did mess with your mind and pretend it was your fault. And yes, it made me feel immensely better.

I'd always had a feeling that it was Hikari that ordered your attack, but I never had any proof, except for the fact that only a select few people knew about the third floor bathroom. But then, I convinced myself, Onigomu brought many women to his bed; it would not be surprising if he showed one of them it.

On and on it went, the same story each time. _I'll divorce you if you don't…_and etcetera. Once again, to use your terms, I had essentially become Hikari's bitch.

And so we arrived on the day that Hikari let me know that you were pregnant. By this time, everything between us had begun once again…a new start, if you will. I acknowledged that it wasn't your fault. You were not responsible for Kikyou's death. People die. It's a face of life, and one that I cannot change. It wasn't your fault, and I knew that and you knew that and somehow, it was beautiful. It felt as though years and _years_ of blame, hate, guilt and anger were swept away in that one night, that one moment where everything came clear and straight and it was just me and you, and nothing, nothing, nothing mattered except that you were small and warm in my arms and your hair was tickling my chin.

Then, the worst day of my life.

Hikari stormed into my study and spat out _She's _fucking_ pregnant_.

And I experienced such joy, such pleasure…it was like nothing I've ever felt. And also…and also that spasm of fear that raced up my spine because _Hikari_ wanted me to father her child…and I hadn't.

And so I was silent.

_Get rid of it_.

And the world crashed down around my ears. The fierce roaring enveloped my being…so similar to when Father banished Mother from the house. _You've been held by a group of men for five nights and six days. There is no way to prove that you are pure. You will not enter this house again. You will not see my sons. You will not receive any of your belongings. You are required to leave the property right away._

My hands, I didn't know what to do with myself and my hands lifted all by themselves and gripped my hair, pulling it from the roots.

I suspect I looked like the very picture of a tortured soul. Of course, that was before I saw you on the roof.

_No. I…can't._

And her face twisted into a mask of fury. _If you don't, I'll-_

_I don't care._ And yes, it was the truth.

_I'll kill her. I'll fucking kill her. Don't think I won't._ And her disgusting brother entered my study as well, not bothering to knock, of course. He is such a brute. Insanely jealous of his sister…but unable to do anything.

_Tell him what you'll do, brother._

And he smiled, showing all his disgusting pointy teeth. _She's pretty_, and he licked his lips, as if you were a cube of chocolate.

It was enough. But I wasn't going to take their bluff. _If you touch her, I'll ruin you._ And the _bastard_, the fucking bastard pulled out pictures. Of you. Naked. Some of them showed you stroking your stomach…and it made my own stomach turn.

_Alright. I'll…I'll do it._ And I condemned myself with those three words.

* * *

...sorry if I ruined anything for 'Eden' with this.


End file.
